Valerian’s hasn’t. “Excuse me, Prefect Thorn. I’ve brought you the prisoner as requested.”
He turns and faces me at last, but the brightness behind him masks his face in shadow.
“Leave us.” His voice sounds deeper, more like a man’s. He’s eighteen now, I remind myself.
“But, Sir,” Valerian responds. “The prisoner has exhibited signs of violent behavior. Is it wise to-”
“That will be all, Officer.”
Valerian clicks her boots together. “Yes, Sir.” She whirls and bumps into my arm, reigniting the bruise on her way out.
“And lock the door. I’m not to be disturbed.”
“Yes, Sir!”
Then she’s gone, the great doors swinging closed with a soft click.
He just stands there for a moment. Then he walks toward me. The sound of each step on the marble hammers into my head.
I’m breathing too fast. Trying to control it just makes it worse. I’m afraid I’ll hyperventilate and collapse, not exactly the reunion I’d envisioned. But then again, it’s not about us, it’s about Cole. I take in a deep breath and tense my muscles to quash the trembling.
He stops a few feet away and just stares, not a hint of a word on his lips.
Despite all my efforts, I feel like I’m going to lose it right there. I can’t take not knowing anymore. “Cassius,” I murmur.
His thick eyebrows arch. He nods toward the door. “Do you think I was too hard on her?”
“Huh?” Of all the things I expected him to say, I’m not prepared for that question.
“I’m still working on my intimidating voice,” he says, his tone dropping an octave. Then the seriousness evaporates from his face, leaving only a huge grin, brighter than the streaming sun.
My heart almost shuts down. He’s adorned in a navy blue tunic trimmed with gold lace, attire befitting a Prefect. His wavy auburn hair is longer now, and each strand captures the sunlight. Sea-green eyes wash over me, carrying away the dread and pain. I’m trembling again, this time with emotions I’m not quite sure I understand and don’t care if I ever do.
“I told you I’d come back for you, Lucky.” His soft voice quavers at the end.
“So what took you so long, huh?” I choke on the words.
And then we’re hugging each other so fiercely I can’t breathe, but it doesn’t matter because I can’t think of a better place to die.
Cassius’s chest muffles my sobs. I’ve tried to be strong for Cole, but everything that’s happened today-meeting Digory, that horrible death in the alley, the looming Recruitment-it’s all too much to hold in, and I welcome sharing this weight that’s threatening to crush me with every breath I take.
All too soon, we pull apart, basking in each other.
The palm of his hand travels from his head to mine, measuring the difference in our height. “Look at you, my little Lucky, all grown up.”
“And you, come back the youngest Prefect the Parish has ever known.” My fingers trace the delicate embroidery on his lapels.
A cloud siphons the brightness from his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself.” He enfolds my wrists with the warmth of his touch. “I couldn’t risk anyone finding out … that you … ”
My eyes drop to my filthy bare feet. I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly conscious of my near nakedness. “That you still associate with us peons?” I whisper.
His finger tilts my chin up until our eyes link. “No, Lucky. It’s not like that, I promise you. It’s just that the Establishment has certain protocols when it comes to fraternization between government officials and citizens.” He stuffs his hands into his vest pockets. “I figured I could do you and your family more good if our relationship was seen as a more neutral one, to dispel any claims of favoritism, that’s all.”
I bite my lower lip. “Yeah, I understand, Cass. It’s not wise to show them you care about anyone in particular, especially if you’re going to represent the Establishment’s code of values.” I don’t intend to sound so harsh, but my conversation with Digory in the sewers still burns in my mind.
Cassius doesn’t seem to notice. He’s circling me, inspecting the flaps of the shoddy blanket that barely cover the cuts beneath. “As soon as I heard you were in custody I had them bring you right to me.” He stops, brushing his forehead against mine. “How bad did they hurt you, Lucky?”
I shrug. “I’ll be all right.”
He wrinkles his nose. “What’s that smell? Did you lose at Shit Dash or something?”
“Hey, I used to beat you at that every time, and you know it!” I give him a playful push away.
He shakes his head. “Faulty memory, Lucky. Come here.” He leads me behind a red velvet partition that conceals a large clawfoot tub. “I had a bath drawn for you. You can get cleaned up.”
“Thanks.” I wince as he pulls the soiled mantle off my aching limbs.
He tosses it into a corner. “I think we can find you something that fits better.”
Then I submerge my naked body into the water, bracing myself for the usual jolt of coldness, only to be shocked by how warm and soothing it feels, like a thousand toasty fingers kneading my sore muscles. People actually live like this? If I did, I’d bathe four or five times a day instead of the once-a-day ritual of enduring a freezing splash from a rusty spigot.
Cassius kneels beside the tub, using a sponge to gently scrub away the grime coating me, careful around my cuts and bruises. “Lucky, what about Cole? Your mother? How are they?”
My vocal chords twist tight. “Mom … she … she’s gone. Reaper’s Cough. About six months after you left.” I blink, spilling a few drops into the bathwater.
He massages soap into my scalp. “I don’t know what to say. I tried to make inquiries about your family, but you know-”
“Contact is forbidden. Yeah, I know.” I sink deeper into the water.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. But I’m here now.” He cups water in his hands and rinses out my hair, making sure it doesn’t get in my eyes. “How’s Cole handling things?”
I sit up. “Cole’s a real champ. He’s the best little brother a guy can have.”
Cassius laughs. I’ve missed that sound. “I’m sure he doesn’t even remember his Uncle Cass.”
I turn and grip the tub’s rim. “Of course he remembers you! I’ve only told him the stories of all our adventures, like a million times!” My mind floods with a stream of memories. “Well, some of our adventures, at least.”
He winks at me. “Remember the time we snuck past that squad of Imposers into Old Man Roarkeshire’s farm and got ahold of that Wanderer’s Brew?”
“Just how much intoxicant was in that thing?”
Cassius stands, knuckles resting against his hips. “All I know is that Old Man Roarkeshire used it to polish the metal hinges in his barn.”
I chuckle. “Great stuff!”
He grips one of the marble columns and swings completely around it. “We ought to take a ride out there sometime, see the old place!”
Visions of burning skin and its stench drains the remaining warmth from the bathwater. “We can’t. It doesn’t exist anymore.”
A sigh escapes Cassius. “How stupid of me. I heard about … about that.”
My eyes drop to a bubble forming a dome on my palm. A pair of eyes stares at me. Probably just my own reflection. But why are they sky blue and filled with accusation? I dunk my hand beneath the surface.
I’ve had enough. No matter how long I lie here, I’ll never feel completely clean. Rising, I climb from the tub. Cassius picks up a towel draped over a pedestal and tosses it my way. With my back to him, I dry off. When I’m finished, he’s holding a robe open and slips it around me. It’s made of a lustrous black material that’s softer than any I’ve ever felt before.
“It’s called silk,” he whispers in my ear. “Only the best for my Lucky.” He reaches around me and cinches the robe’s sash about my waist.
“Cole must be wondering where I am,” I whisper back.